For All Eternity
by cosmiccastawayuk
Summary: Blaine Anderson has spent his whole life in Alabama dreaming, quite literally, of meeting a man with ocean eyes throughout different dates in history. When he gets a letter from his uncle's lawyer stating that he has been left an estate in New York he jumps at the chance. Will he finally meet a gorgeous guy and forget the man in his dreams or is his destiny already written?
1. Alabama Blues

**A/N So I have written a new Klaine story based on this quote below from 'Love, Love, Love.' I hope you enjoy it. I had fun writing this. it's different from anything else I have ever written. I will be bringing out a new chapter each week as I have already written most of the story already, so all I need to do is edit them. :) This will be my only Author's note for this story so I'm thanking you all ahead of time for reading my story and I love you all! I also apologise if anyone is from Nance's Creek Alabama. I'm sure it's a very lovely place, (just not for Blaine).**

 **Enjoy!**

 _ **We met right here.**_

 _ **I took this man's hand and we ran down that hallway.**_

 _ **And for those of you that know me,**_

 _ **Know I'm not in the habit of taking people's hands I've never met before.**_

 _ **But I think that my soul knew something that my body and my mind didn't know yet.**_

 _ **It knew that our hands were meant to hold each other...**_

 _ **Fearlessly and forever.**_

 _ **Which is why it's never really felt like I've been getting to know you,**_

 _ **It's always felt like I was remembering you from something.**_

 _ **As if in every lifetime that you and I have ever lived,**_

 _ **We've chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again.**_

 _ **Over and over.**_

 _ **For all eternity.**_

 _ **And I just feel so lucky that I found you so soon in this lifetime,**_

 _ **Because all I want to do,**_

 _ **All I've ever wanted to do,**_

 _ **Is spend my life loving you.**_

 _ **So Kurt Hummel, my amazing friend, my one true love, will you marry me?**_

 **Prologue**

Blaine had dreamed for as long as he could remember about a man with eyes the colour of the ocean and a dazzling smile that made his knees go weak. He had dreamt of this man through all the ages of history and beyond. But he had never once met him in **this** life. He had dreamt about him for so long that he had begun to think that his mind had made him all up. That this was what Blaine thought of as the perfect man and so he had begun to think he had dreamed him up in different scenarios and in different times in history to feel the romance that was seriously lacking in his life. Because let's face it, Blaine Anderson was screwed in the love department. Now at nearly thirty years of age he had only kissed a handful of guys and never once had a serious relationship. But then when you still lived in the small home town that you were bought up in for your whole life, and he meant small with a population of around four hundred people, and still working in your parents flower shop which you lived above so you didn't have to still live at home, there wasn't many people to choose from. Especially since he was gay.

That was how Blaine had ended up alone by the time his thirtieth birthday loomed on the horizon. He was incredibly lonely, and more than a little bored. Blaine hated Nances Creek, Alabama with a passion. It bored him to tears. Everything about his life was dull. His work was dull, his life had little social interaction and his family drove him crazy at the best of times.

So when Blaine received a large envelope through the mail from some fancy law office up in New York City he was more than a little confused, but extremely curious. He practically ripped the envelope apart with his bare teeth just to see what was inside. It was not what he expected. Not what he expected at all. It was a letter stating that his father's brother, his uncle John, whom no one talked about but everyone looked down on, the black sheep of the Anderson family who Blaine had never met before in his entire life. Not even once despite his pleas to meet him, had died. Not only that but he had left Blaine a sizeable amount of money and a shop that he apparently owned in Manhattan. All Blaine had to do was fly to New York, see this lawyer and claim his inheritance.

Now Blaine had never flown anywhere before. He hadn't even left the state of Alabama, let alone flown halfway across a continent. But Blaine couldn't get the thought of what he might find if he did out of his head. He couldn't concentrate on anything else in his life at all. Blaine was fluffing customers' orders up right, left and centre, not listening to a word they, or his nagging mother, said to him for the entire day. This was New York City. Just thinking about it made him giddy. The hustle and bustle of people, the exciting places to visit, people to see, things to do. The restaurants, the theatres and museums. It was finally Blaine's chance to escape the tedious doldrums of his tiresome existence so far. It was freedom. Blaine had to grab this one chance before it became like a leaf on the wind floating away. After all, he probably wouldn't ever get another. Did he really want to spend the rest of his days in a flower shop in the middle of basically nowhere, Sucksville? Be an old man, alone and unloved? No he did not. This was it.

That evening Blaine had packed his clothes up, left a cursory note to his parents about what he was going to do, boxed the rest of his belongings and booked the next available flight to New York City. Blaine Anderson was on his way to a better life. Let's face it; it couldn't be worse than this one, could it?


	2. Chicago, 1936AD

**Chapter One**

 **Chicago, Illinois, USA. 1936AD.**

Playing with the toothpick in his mouth, Thomas watched a boy from across the street with great interest, his heart pounding inside his chest as he leant against a lamppost observing this boy packing bags into a rich family's auto mobile. One of those flashy ones in red that could do up to fifty miles an hour Thomas had heard. The boy was dressed in one of those fashionable, tight navy pin striped suits with the vest the same colour and a maroon tie with a navy trilby on his head and he looked like he was born to wear clothes like that. His tall, lean figure with legs that seemed endless could pull it off like nobody's business. Thomas was hooked. This boy was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, with his tight, muscular body and his piercing eyes that were both blue and yet green at the same time. Like the colour of the ocean. As the boy looked across the road his eyes caught Thomas' own hazel orbs and all the breath in his body left him as their eyes locked together. Feeling like a jolt of electricity was passing through his entire body, Thomas stood unable to move.

Thomas felt like he had stood gawking at this beauteous guy for a lifetime, when the guy finally pulled away, some high maintenance looking girl having shouted something at him. Thomas envied that girl right then and there. She was a part of this guy's life and he wasn't. It didn't seem fair, but then life wasn't really very fair, was it? He had learned that the hard way when he had told his father that he preferred boys and he threw Thomas out onto the streets. That was when he had been thirteen years old. Now he knew better at the grand old age of nineteen. No, Thomas Coleman was no fool. He had learned from his mistakes. It was something you kept to yourself. On the down low. You didn't ever discuss these things to anyone. A bit like the prohibition. Everyone had drunk in secret but no one had ever talked about it.

It was pointless to even think about this boy any longer. He was clearly from a wealthy family, and Thomas wasn't. He had no family any more. This boy's family wouldn't even consider Thomas a prospect. The fact that he was a boy for starters was enough. But being poor? God forbid that match. He was probably engaged to that piece of fluff that had called to him anyhow. The petite, skinny brunette that looked like she didn't eat anything at all. She probably didn't even realise how lucky she even was. She probably thought it was her right and privilege to marry someone like that.

Thomas doffed his own cap, sighing as he turned away ambling down the street to his place of work. Being a hotel bell hop wasn't the swankiest or best paying gigs in town but it bought him enough dough to get by in his tiny apartment and it allowed him to play gigs in the evenings in some of the hottest bars in town. Walking away from the most handsome man Thomas had ever laid eyes on, he returned with great reluctance to his own, less affluent world. He would probably never see this guy again in his entire life. That saddened Thomas more than he could ever say. They were from two separate worlds though, how would it have ever possibly worked?


	3. New York, New York

**Chapter Two**

Feeling a slight jolt Blaine woke to find that the flight was almost over. Once the dream had turned into a distant, hazy memory of what felt like a past life lived, nerves of excitement bubbled inside his chest as he gazed out of the window in awe whilst the plane began to descend into JFK airport and New York City. Next stop, claiming his inheritance. He couldn't wait. Let's face it, his life could not get any worse than it already had been. There was no way he was going back to Alabama no matter what he found when he arrived at the lawyer's office. Blaine had needed this kick in the backside. He needed to live. Maybe, just maybe, he might find his perfect guy out there too. After all millions of people lived in New York. A sizeable proportion of them had to be gay, right? He was bound to have more luck here than he would at home, that was for sure anyhow. His excitement only grew as the plane touched down and he stepped off the plane. The air felt different somehow. It felt like he had come home. Like this was where he was supposed to be. Blaine silently thanked his uncle for giving him this gift as he made his way through the airport and out to flag down a taxi.

Blaine stared out the window of a taxi cab he finally managed to flag down after minutes of watching seasoned professionals grabbing the first yellow car they could find, leaving Blaine in their wake. Everything was so big in New York. The buildings, the advertisement billboards, the lights. It was so busy too, crammed full of people walking everywhere, all in a hurry to get somewhere. He was in awe of what he was seeing. Never in his life had he seen so many faces, young, old, happy sad. New York had them all. By the time he had gotten outside of his late uncles law office his face was pressed firmly against the window, his eyes wide as he drank in everything he could see. Blaine felt as though he had stepped into a whole new world, and, let's face it, he had.

Blaine thanked the taxi man, giving him a little tip for his service and looked up at the seemingly never ending building in front of him. Somewhere in this huge building was a lawyer that had his future destiny. _Right, come on Blaine. You can do this. It's not overwhelming at all._ The problem was, it was overwhelming. Before today Blaine had never even seem a building this tall apart from on the TV. Gulping down the fluttering butterflies in his stomach he took a deep breath in and pushed the revolving doors to enter the large, clean, airy lobby full of modern looking, fashionable furniture and white walls with post-modernist pictures that looked like absolutely nothing. He walked slowly up to the reception desk and waited patiently for the girl who was on the phone to finish her conversation.

She flicked her dyed blonde locks over her shoulder, giving him an icy glare as she carried on her conversation which seemed to be about what someone was wearing at a party she had attended the other night. Blaine raised his eyebrow at her in irritation but it didn't seem to do anything to stop her gossip session. As he cleared his throat, she gave him one more evil look before hanging up the phone.

"Can I help you?" She asked snarling at him and he sighed heavily. Flashbacks to high school flew into his head of Penny Lancaster the head cheerleader sneering at him and making catty remarks about his lack of height or his wild curls. Obviously there were mean girls everywhere.

He decided to ignore her rude behaviour. "Er yes, I have an appointment with a Jeffrey Levenstein. My name is Blaine Anderson." Rolling her eyes at him she picked up the phone with her well-manicured hand and pointedly looked at him.

"Anything else?" Blaine shook his head and she tutted lowly under her breath as if he was interrupting something extremely important. Which he probably was. To her.

"No." He scowled as she flipped her hair again and dialled the number for his uncle's lawyer.

"You can take a seat." She exclaimed as if he were an idiot and Blaine shook his head in irritation at her, making his way to one of the sofas just so he could get away from her bitchy comments. He tapped his foot on the tiled flooring until finally a middle aged, balding man with a slight paunch and spectacles appeared before him, his hand outstretched to shake.

"Mr Anderson, I'm glad you came. If you'll follow me we'll go through your uncle's will and what it will mean for you."

"Thanks." Blaine stood and shook the man's hand. After all he was the one that was changing his whole life. He felt he owed Mr Levenstein everything. This was his chance to finally live. He followed the man to the lift and watched as Mr Levenstein pressed the button for the seventh floor. Blaine could hardly stand still. He had never been on the seventh floor of anything before. In fact he had never been in a building that had seven floors, let alone more. It felt so surreal that it was almost like he was in some sort of waking dream or something. That this wasn't his life at all but he was experiencing it through the eyes of someone else. Before he knew it he was sitting in a plush office chair in a sizeable office with his late uncle's lawyer rifling through his papers on his desk, which was untidy to say the least. Blaine, who was stickler for everything being tidy and in its own place, winced at the messy pile as he wondered how this man did any work because surely he couldn't know where anything was half the time.

"Ah here it is!" the lawyer proudly proclaimed and came to sit next to Blaine on his rather comfy leather seat. Blaine raised his eyebrows at the man. He hoped this was worth the visit. God did he hope so. "So in his will your uncle stated that he wanted to leave you everything that he owned."

"Everything? Why? I never met him in my whole life." Blaine asked in confusion. This was surreal to say the least. Why would his uncle give someone he didn't know all his money and possessions? Why not just give it away to charity?

"He wrote you a letter Mr Anderson explaining that but first before I give that to you I'd like to explain what exactly your uncle is giving to you." Mr Levenstein explained, pushing his reading glasses up his nose nervously as he did so. Blaine could see the slight sheen of sweat on the man's brow. Why was he nervous? This all seemed very weird. I mean it was winter, why would anyone be sweating?

"Are you ok?" Blaine asked the lawyer, concerned to say the least as the man got a handkerchief out to dab on his forehead.

"Oh yes, don't worry about me. Now your uncle was my most important client..." Ah, so that's what it was, he didn't want to lose such an important client. "He had a combined wealth of over three point four million dollars." Blaine's jaw dropped. He was getting over three million dollars? He was rich! "Yes, your uncle was quite a savvy businessman. He actually owns a few clothing stores, quite lucrative ones which have their own managers so you don't need to worry about the everyday running of them, only reap the profits. He also, and this was because he absolutely loved reading, owned a small second hand book store in the basement of the brownstone which he owned and lived in. He is giving you that to run as you wish, only he stipulates that it must be kept a book shop and nothing else otherwise you lose everything. Your uncle was a little eccentric as you can imagine. Anyway, here's the letter explaining everything to you." Mr Levenstein handed Blaine a small envelope which he stared at for a few minutes wondering what could have possessed his uncle to do what he had done. Finally he couldn't bear the not knowing and tore into the envelope with relish, unfolding the crinkled paper within and smoothing it out on his lap. Blaine hated wrinkles.

 _Dear Blaine,_

 _If you are reading this then I am dead._

 _I know we never met and you're probably wondering what type of nut job I am giving you all my things without us ever having known each other, but out of all of my family you were the one I felt the closest to. The one member I thought I understood and might have gotten along with. I was very proud of you when I heard that you had come out as gay to your parents and all the rest of your family. That you were proud of who you were and refused to hide it._

 _I ran away from my family, they didn't understand me. You stood up to them. Blaine, you deserve a better life than living in the middle of nowhere in Alabama so I have given you all my possessions. I hope you treasure them and live your life, find love, maybe get your heart broken a couple of times or break someone's heart yourself and never, ever look back._

 _Be who you were meant to be kiddo._

 _Your loving uncle_

 _Johnny_

Blaine felt a lump begin to form in his throat and he bit his lip to stop himself from crying as the tears welled in his eyes. He wished he had known his uncle. He sounded awesome and more understanding than anyone else in his family. He briefly wondered whether his uncle had been gay but just not admitted it like Blaine had. He guessed he would never know. "Thank you." He murmured to Mr Levenstein, who had been rifling through his papers and drawers again whilst Blaine had read his letter.

The lwyer pushed his glasses up abashed and walked over with even more paperwork and a set of keys that Blaine assumed were the keys to the shop and brownstone. "Ah, you're, erm, welcome Mr Anderson." He cleared his throat, wriggling in his seat and started again. "You'll need to sign these documents for the transfer of your uncle's possessions to you and then I will show you to your new house."

"Ok. Um, Mr Levenstein. Would it be ok if I could keep you as my lawyer? I mean you know about all of my uncles things and..."

"Of course Mr Anderson. I'll change everything into your name." He smiled warmly at him and Blaine felt he had done his good deed of the day. Besides he seemed like a nice enough guy. For a lawyer that was. Who was he to take work from the poor man? Blaine looked through the documents reading them over to make sure everything was above board before signing them. His new lawyer seemed to be appreciative that he was so fastidious about these things. "Well, you are like your uncle in some respects. He always looked over everything very carefully before signing too." Blaine grinned widely as he signed, happy that he was at least a little like his uncle.

After singing off with a flourish Blaine stood up giddy. He couldn't wait to see his new home...


	4. Blaine's New House

**Chapter Three**

Blaine stood outside the large three storey, red brick brownstone with a huge smile on his face. This was all his. Mr Levenstein had handed him the keys and congratulated him before scooting off for another meeting with a client. Tentatively Blaine made his way up the steps with his baggage. He had only bought three bags and his laptop with him which he now felt was not a lot possession wise as he looked up at the huge building in front of him. He fit the key into the lock with a click, letting the heavy oak door swing open to reveal black and white marbled tiling in the entrance hallway, which was white and bright, the stairs the same shade with a deep navy carpeting strip down the middle. It was beautiful, tasteful and Blaine almost couldn't breathe he was so dizzy with happiness. This was his new home. All of it. It all looked so wondrous.

Leaving his bags in the hallway he stepped into the living room which again was a tasteful shade of beige with deep brown leather sofas and a wide screen television. He had a few pictures and photographs dotted around which Blaine regarded in wonder. His uncle had taste. Serious taste. With his beaming grin still in place he raced upstairs and into what appeared to be the master bedroom. It was all in shades of blue, the bed huge with millions of pillows on the top of it and a wardrobe the entire length of one side. Blaine had never been in such a lovely house before. His parents place had been crowded and pokey and one floor, a mish mash of different colours and styles and peeling wallpaper. It had been crammed full of his mother's collections of plates, teapots and little figurines, most of which had been broken over the years and glued back together. His uncle seemed to prefer minimalism.

Having seen the most important parts of the house in his opinion, Blaine ambled through the rest of the house quite satisfied with what he saw. When he got the the third floor he was astounded to find a room filled with books. More books than Blaine thought was in the nearest library to him back home in Alabama. Blaine liked books that was for sure, he had just never been able to read that much. There had been one small book shop and the library whom he had been a member of but most of what had been in both he had read, or never wanted to read.

In here though it was a treasure trove of everything. He felt like Belle in Beauty and the Beast. His uncle had books that had been banned down south that Blaine had always wanted to read but could never get a copy of, fantasy books with swords and shields and dragons, science fiction with space and robots and aliens. He had classics that Blaine had never even heard of let alone read, graphic novels, funny books, crime books, horror books. Books that were informative. He had everything. Blaine took one particular book off the shelf. Sabriel by Garth Nix. He had never read anything by that author and had no idea what it was about. With a shrug Blaine decided he would give it a go. What was the worst that could happen? If he didn't like it he could just put it back, or maybe sell it in his bookshop downstairs. After all it was all his to do with what he wanted now and he was certain his uncle wouldn't mind.

With that done Blaine decided he needed to find the nearest food store and get some things in. He was starving and quite tired, but very, very satisfied...


	5. Eleusis, 491BC

**Chapter Four**

 **Eleusis, Greece 491 BC**

Alphaeus sat on the hill in front of the shrine to Demeter and Persephone, looking out to the bay of Eleusis. The rocky outcroppings filled with patches of dried grassland gave way to the tranquil azure beauty that were the waters of the bay. The cerulean calm sparkled as it reflected the bright sun, high in the sky as Helios drove his chariot ever higher across the sky on his daily trek to light the world below. He didn't know much about this world, being only six years of age but he knew there were many things in this world that he could not explain, the Gods being one of them.

The other was why men seemed to keep fighting with one another. He did not understand it at all. He had asked his father about such things and his father had only replied that honour dictated that we had to fight to keep our freedom. Whatever that meant. He personally thought it was all stupid. Why did men fight and kill each other? He just could not fathom it at all. There was so much wonder and beauty in this world, why spoil it with death and destruction? He scuffed his sandals on the ground below him and waited patiently for his mother to finish praying to the Gods inside for good weather and a good harvest. His home had one of the largest olive groves in Attica and his mother prayed every week for a good harvest. It had not seemed to have failed yet.

"Phae? Phae we're leaving!" His mother called out behind him from the shrine's entrance of white stone, and he climbed up, racing towards her. He loved his mother very much. Out of everyone in his whole life she was the one he was closest to, the one person who seemed to understand him, was patient with him, and loved him for everything that he was. He was small compared to the other boys around his age that he knew from his lessons and consequently, more often than not, was picked on because of that. His small stature did not deter him however and he soaked up everything that he was taught. Mathematics, reading, writing, the histories, geography, philosophy. He loved it all. His keen hazel eyes observed the world and everything in it.

His favourite tale was that of Daedalus and Icharus and his father had compared him and his wild ways to that of Icharus many a times. But Alphaeus wanted to fly too. He wanted to feel the wind in his hair and the freedom of soaring through the sky. He wanted to invent things too.

He held his mothers hand as they walked back to their home, only running when he saw it come into view, waving at all the workers in the fields that they owned along the way. He stopped short as he came into the house itself, seeing a man he did not recognise at all and a boy of similar age to him standing beside the boy. A boy with the most wondrous eyes that Alphaeus had ever seen. They looked like the sea...


	6. The Book Shop

**Chapter Five**

Blaine woke up, the familiar pair of ocean coloured eyes still in his memory. It didn't matter at what point of history he dreamt about, or who he dreamt of being, it was always those same beautiful blue and green eyes staring back at him. He wondered whether he would ever see them in real life or whether his brain had invented this amazing person. Sighing, he crawled out of bed and chucked on the first clothes that he could find, making his way down to breakfast.

After having had breakfast Blaine decided he needed to have a look at the shop his uncle owned and managed. Steeling himself he stepped down the stairs from his front door and jingled with his new set of keys, found the right one and entered the shop. Inside it was what you would expect a second hand bookshop to look like. It wasn't a particularly big place but it certainly had a lot of stock. It was crammed full of shelf after shelf of weird and wonderful adventures, most of which Blaine had never come across in his entire life. He was definitely going to have to do quite a bit a reading if he was going to be helpful to his customers in any way. He wondered around, noticing that some of the shelves were a little dusty from lack of anyone venturing towards these shelves. He wondered how he might go about getting people back to these shelves. I mean someone must want these books, right?

He had briefly looked to see if his uncle had an online website. He had not. In fact there didn't appear to be any sort of computerised items in either his house or his shop. Blaine was going to have to bring this business into the modern age.

Blaine then realised that to do that he would need to know the prices of the items he was stocking. He didn't even know how much some of these books were even worth. He knew that some old books could be worth quite a bit. He was definitely going to have to look into that. Sighing, he sat down on the old, dusty stool next to the counter where the empty till lay. _Oh God I need a float for the till too._ There was a lot to think about. Running a business was more complicated than he had first imagined but Blaine was determined to do it. Because that was what his uncle John wanted. Besides it was good to have a challenge. It made life more exciting. Squaring his shoulders Blaine went back up the house to get his laptop. There was a lot of research research that he needed to do...


	7. Uppsala, 845AD

**Chapter Six**

 **Uppsala, Sweden. 845AD**

Ulf stood at the water's edge, looking out over the lake that stretched out behind his fathers farm. He didn't really understand the world as such, but he knew his father worked very hard and that the world was full of great warriors fighting honourably so that they would reach Valhalla before Ragnarok fell upon them all. Ulf knew Ragnarok was a bad thing. Whatever it was. But here, on this farm where the ice cold water of the lake stretched out as far as his small eyes could see and the cattle, goats and sheep all needed tending in the grassy landscape that was their farm, the world felt a very happy and peaceful place to Ulf. At four years of age that was how it should be. That was how his mother made sure it was for him.

His mother, Brigitte was a strong woman and Ulf thought she could defeat many a man that tried to fight against her. She was formidable in his eyes. She had told him since his birth that he was so pretty that he must be born of a God himself, whichever one that may be, for he looked nothing like his flaming red haired father and his blonde mother, having dark hair that curled softly around his head and eyes that looked like they came from a lion. Ulf wondered what it would be like to be a God but he said nothing about it as his father, who had a hot temper, was always angered when his mother went on about his looks.

At this precise moment in time he was watching as someone on a boat came sailing towards them. It was probably his uncle, Bjarke, who like his name sake, looked a lot like a bear. At least to Ulf that was. He was huge, his arms like tree trunks and he was the hairiest man Ulf had ever seen. It covered his chest, shoulders and back. Ulf hoped dearly that he wouldn't look like that when he was grown up, he didn't really want to look like a bear fur and all. The boat moored itself alongside their small docks and his uncle made sure to secure the boat to the dock itself before climbing out of his boat.

"Ah there is my little nephew." Bjarke roared out, scooping Ulf up with one arm as he made his way off his boat and Ulf sat upon this man's huge arms. "Getting bigger by the day. One day you will be as big as your father."

"Hello uncle. Why are you here?" he asked the large hairy man sceptically. He wasn't quite sure what to make of his uncle, but then he was an intimidating sight to any four year old child.

"Do I need a reason to visit my favourite nephew?" He chuckled lowly, making Ulf bounce on his arm but the smile faded fast. "I need to see your father child. Can you lead me to him?" Ulf nodded. His mother and father had spent quite a lot of time indoors recently; making sure that Ulf was outside. He wasn't sure what they were up to but whatever it was they did not want him to know. He wasn't sure he wanted to know himself. He had heard strange noises coming from inside the holding. Noises that sounded a little like his mother screaming. He pointed to the house and Bjarke laughed, nodding as if in understanding.

"Let us wait a while for your father shall we?" He told Ulf gruffly and Ulf nodded once more.

* * *

It was a while before his father emerged, a large smile on his face. By this point Ulf was fed up of his uncle's company. He ran over to his father, taking hold of his leg and getting swung up to his father's eye level. "Uncle is here. He says he has something to tell you."

"Oh and what would that be little one?" He shrugged at his father's question and watched as his uncle approached.

"Brother, news from the Angle lands. Ragnar Lothbrok is dead. He was slain by the king of Northumbria." Ulf's fathers face darkened. Ulf had no idea who or what they were talking of but he must have been important for them both to have that dark expression upon their features.

"We must go to the town and find out what is to happen next." his father turned to look at Ulf and he blinked uncomprehendingly. Ulf had never left the farm. That was his whole world as far as he was concerned. "You are coming with me. You will need to start understanding these things soon enough."

Ulf's eyes widened. He was leaving the farm? What would his mother say? "What about mother?" He squeaked.

"You leave her to me."

* * *

Ulf sat at the prow of the boat, watching the world hungrily. His father had won an argument for once and Ulf was watching as they fast approached what looked like a whole number of houses all together coming towards them. Ulf had never seen so many people before ever. There was a small boy and his dog further down the beach that Ulf watched in curiosity as they played. He was about the same age as Ulf and his dog was larger than he was but they seemed to be having so much fun.

"You want to play?" His father asked him kindly, nodding towards the two of them on the beach.

"Can I?"

His father bellowed out a laugh deep from inside his belly. "Of course." Ulf smiled broadly and wriggled in his seat in anticipation. It looked like they were having a lot of fun. He practically ran out of the boat when they docked, his father yelling after him to be careful, but Ulf ignored him. He was too set on having fun.

He made his way down the beach, stopping short at the boy and his dog, suddenly becoming shy. The boy looked up towards Ulf, his eyes oceans that set Ulf's heart racing...


	8. Broadway

**Chapter Seven**

It had been a few days and Blaine was almost done with his website for the shop to go live. He was very proud of what he had achieved. It looked professional, well researched and, he hoped, appealing to customers. Obviously he knew he couldn't compete with sites like Amazon but he hoped he would get enough custom from it that it was worth running. Surely now he would shift some of the older stock that hadn't looked like it had ever moved since the store had first opened, whenever that had been.

When he hadn't been studying up on how to make web pages he had been engrossed in the book he had chosen out of his uncles own library. It was filled with a rich fantasy world where a young girl searched for her father to rid the world of the rising dead. It had love, mystery and great suspense. A cat that was not a cat but some great ancient being, but was it evil or not? He loved it. So much so that he had gone on to read the second book in what he found out was a trilogy.

However today he was excited about something entirely different. Today he was going to watch his first Broadway musical. He had always loved music, dance and theatre, not that there was much in Alabama, but he would always sneakily watch a musical on the TV when it had been on or buy a bargain DVD from the store if there was one. His favourite was Hairspray. That wasn't what he was going to see though. No, today he was going to see Wicked. He had heard so much about it and had wanted to see it forever but never had the chance. Well now was his chance.

He had dressed up for the occasion in dark fitted trousers and a form fitting deep forest green shirt which he thought bought out the green part of his eyes. To complete the outfit he put on a silver waistcoat that he loved so much but never got to wear back home. So far he hadn't searched through his uncle's wardrobe, his own clothes still in their suitcases for the most part. That was something he really needed to do. _Maybe tomorrow._ He really needed to start making this house into a home. He still felt like he was a guest at the moment. Blaine needed to change that.

* * *

Blaine was standing in the lobby jiggling around excitedly for the musical to start, he couldn't wait to take his seat and finally watch a musical on stage for the first time in his life. This was going to be amazing. He couldn't wait to sing along and dream that he was one of the people up on that stage belting out in front of a vast audience. To sing and dance. What a wonderful feeling that must be. He looked around the crowd, admiring all of their fashionable, smart outfits. Girls with beautiful, sparkling dresses and men in suits and ties.

He stopped short as he came upon a man who was looking at something beyond him. Blaine could see his eyes. Eyes the colour of the ocean. It was him. It was the man that was in his dreams time and time again. The man he had met time and time again throughout history. In every lifetime, over and over. He was breathtakingly beautiful. He was tall, but not overly tall and lean; with sinewy muscles making his golden shirt fit him perfectly. His chestnut hair was swept high from his face. Blaine found his heart pounding heavily in his chest. He had to meet him, he just had to. Making his way through the increasing crowd, Blaine slowly managed to squeeze through the crowd when the bell rang for them all to take their seats. Desperate to meet this wondrous man he started shoving his way through the crowd but when he had reached the spot where the man with the ocean coloured eyes had been, he was gone. Disappointment sank into his chest as he wearily trudged to his own seat. Blaine searched the seats surrounding him to see if he could spot him again but it was to no avail. However, the smallest hope had started burning in his chest. He was here. In New York. Perhaps fate would be kind to Blaine Anderson after all...


	9. The Somme, 1916

**Chapter Eight**

 **The Somme, France, February 1916**

Lieutenant Joseph Edwards, or Joe to most people, stepped out of the office and into the dank dreariness of the trenches. Well, what was called his office. Really it was just a hole in the ground that had been dug out and a few pieces of wooden furniture had been thrown in along with a filing cabinet and all held up with a few wooden beams. Granted it smelt better in there than anywhere else in this dump in the middle of France. He had been on the front lines since almost the beginning of the war. Stupidly he had paid a commission to be an officer and volunteered to join the army thinking alongside a lot of other young men that the war was only going to last a couple of months and that they would be back in time for Christmas covered in glory. But then at eighteen years of age you would think that. Now, after two years of this he was a hardened veteran who knew what an idiot he had been. War was not glamorous or glorious in any way. He had seen death, disease and starvation first hand. He had seen people choke to death on mustard gas, kill rats just so they would have something to eat, have their heads blown off just for lighting a cigarette. Joe had seen it all. He knew there would be more to come as well. This war was far from over.

As he walked through the muddy, dirty, rat infested trenches that smelt of excrement and death he sighed to himself heavily. He was getting a new recruit to replace Private Henry Johnson. He had gotten his leg blown off in the last fight. He was still alive at the moment but barely. Joe didn't know whether he would make it back to see his family before he passed away. The boy was so hopped up on morphine though that he didn't notice anything any longer. Even the fact that he was missing a leg. The last time Joe had visited him in the hospital he had been all smiles and laughter. He was completely out of it. The poor kid. He was only just eighteen. So many kids had died. Not that he was old. But at least he was now in his twenties. A lot of them didn't last that long. It was horrific.

His letters back home in sunny old Hertfordshire, England to his mother were always light hearted and witty, he didn't want her to know the truth. If she knew what it was really like she would go nuts. So he never told her. _Better that she think I'm living in splendour and not eating corned beef in a stew by the bucket load..._ The food had gotten scarcer as the war continued, sometimes he would get as little as bread and cheese. Not the he was grumbling. This was how it was. They just had to suck it up.

Joe got to the proper office tent of the higher up officers, well the ones who were lucky enough not to have to serve in the trenches like he did. Some were communication officers or other more 'indispensable' things. Joe was practically cannon fodder like the rest of the unlucky sods out there. He was supposed to keep them in line, keep their morale up. _What morale?_ He scoffed lowly so the captain in the tent didn't hear it. He didn't want to get disciplined. Again. He stood at attention the way he was supposed to in front of an officer of higher rank, taking his steel Brodie helmet off, tucking it under his arms.

"Ah Lieutenant Edwards. At ease man." Captain Forthwright ordered. Joe slackened and delved into his left jacket pocket, producing a smoke. He knew it was a filthy habit but unfortunately he had gotten addicted to it. It made his breath smell and his nails had turned slightly yellow but it gave his hands something to do when the nerves threatened to take over. It also kept him warm at night. Especially when it was cold and damp. Which was right now. He lit it up, shoving the rest in his pocket and took in his first drag deeply. _Ah yes, that's the stuff._

"So where is he? My new rookie." He asked as he blew out the smoke he had inhaled. The Captain, he noticed, had done the same. It was like a ritual among them all now. When at ease light up your smokes.

"He'll be here any moment. He's changing into his uniform. Seems like a bright kid. Too bad he's probably going to die soon, eh?" Reginald Forthwright joked and Joe shook his head in disgust. He was like that with all the new kids. They had gotten so used to it that they joked about it now. Joe hated that. This was probably why he preferred sharing his meals with his unit. At least they understood. There was no joking about death down there where it was more likely to occur. These were people after all. Not tools. Sometimes Joe thought the officers had forgotten that. Become too flippant about death. Reginald slapped his arm and smiled wryly in between puffs of his cigarette and Joe scowled back at him. He wanted this over and done with so he could get out of here and back to reality.

The flaps of the tent door swung open to reveal a young, slim figure with pristine hair, a pristine moustache and a pristine uniform that he tugged down and smoothed out. Poor kid, he wouldn't be caring about wrinkles soon enough. Joe stumped his cigarette out on an ash tray lying on Reginald's desk to take a better look at the kid. He couldn't have been more than eighteen, with some puppy fat still on his face. When he looked into his eyes however, well Joe stopped short, holding his breath in. They were hypnotic. Not wholly green or blue they were the colour of the ocean down in the Mediterranean. Joe had never seen it of course other than in paintings and drawings, but he had been told about it from more worldly individuals. They were exquisite. The longer he looked into the fresh face of this new soldier, the more he thought he was attractive altogether. His full lips that creased in the corners of his mouth in a slight smile, his pale skin that looked almost like alabaster or porcelain or something similar. Realising he was staring at this new kid he shook his head a little and cleared his throat.

"So Private..."

"Theodore Atwood Sir." The kid filled in as the captain trailed off not remembering his name. Like he even cared. He could probably hardly remember Joe's name, let alone a private that had just joined.

Reginald cleared his throat too, a look of slight embarrassment on his face. "Yes, quite. This is your ranking officer that you will follow orders from, Lieutenant Edwards. He'll show you that ropes and the other officers you'll be working with." Joe raised his eyebrow but said nothing. Reginald Forthwright was widely known for being bad at remembering names. He had obviously forgotten the names of his Sergeant or his Corporals. God forbid. Joe was beginning to think he had only remembered his name because his secretary had drilled it into him numerous times today.

Reginald looked to Joe for him to take the lead and he could feel his eyes starting to roll. "This way Private." Joe started walking out the tent at a reasonable pace, hopefully for his new Private to follow. Thankfully, he seemed bright enough to follow closely behind. "You'll be in my platoon Private, make sure to keep all of yours things close by you. Well, all the things you care about anyhow. Otherwise the other soldiers may well take what you don't look after. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir." He replied in a small voice and Joe nodded. He couldn't really be friends with his platoon but he tried to get to know them all well enough that they felt they were important. Joe wasn't sure whether they were or not yet. It was something he despised thinking about. Whether all the soldiers that had died had died in vain. What exactly were they even fighting for anymore? Joe certainly had no answers. He stopped short, looking into the ocean coloured eyes intensely which widened in surprise at his stopping so abruptly.

"Look, Theodore right?"

"Theo Sir."

"Theo. I'm going to give you some advice. War is ugly and you won't like it but you'll have to lump it. You won't eat well, the trenches are dangerous, damp, muddy, smelly places and war in general is horrifying. Do you understand what I'm trying to say to you?" Theo nodded but Joe knew he didn't really. None of them did until they actually lived it. "I advise not telling your parents everything about your life away at war, it'll only worry them. Ok, kid?"

"Um... Can you not call me kid?" Theo practically whispered out and Joe's lips pulled into a dry smile and he nodded as he tried to contain his laughter. Right then he looked more like a kid than ever with his large eyes and his naivety. He hated the fact that Theo's innocence was about to be ripped away from him forever.

"Sure thing Private. Come on, follow me. I'll show you to Corporal Davies. He'll be the officer you'll be directly below. Got it?" Theo nodded again, looking a little like a rabbit caught in headlights. Joe led him ever onwards, down to his new home and his new life...


	10. The Blaine, The Dresses and The Wardobe

**Chapter Nine**

The next morning, just as Blaine had promised himself and to distract from the constant dreams of his perfect man and the reality of last night at the theatre, he stood before his uncle's wardrobe ready to go through whatever was inside. He held a black bin bag ready to place things inside to take to a charity shop. He doubted he would want anything that was inside. It probably wouldn't fit anyhow.

Opening the doors with a flourish Blaine saw a whole mish mash of colourful yet tasteful shirts, waistcoats and trousers, surprised to see that they were all very well made. Things he wouldn't actually mind wearing, if they fit him that was. He looked on the label inside one of the shirts, which read 'Hummels'. It wasn't a designer that Blaine was familiar with but then he had lived in the sticks of Alabama his whole life. What did he know about fashion? Very little was the answer. He skimmed through the rack and noticed that a lot of the clothes had this label inside before it dawned on him. His uncle had owned a whole load of clothes shops. Perhaps 'Hummels' was the chain. They looked surprisingly good. Blaine was itching to try them on. He heaped a few bits and pieces that he knew he definitely wouldn't wear even if his life depended on it and decided to look through the other side of the wardrobe first before trying anything on.

When he opened it however he was shocked to say the least. It was not what he had been expecting at all. It was full of beautifully made dresses of varying colours and trends. He had suspected his uncle had been gay from the letter he had given him but this... This was more than Blaine had foreseen. Not that he was uncomfortable with it. Why should he be? It was just surprising was all. His uncle had been a transvestite. He fingered the gowns and wondered whether he should ask his mother whether she wanted any. But then they weren't really her style. It seemed such a shame to give them all to charity though. He looked inside and was not in the least surprised when all of them had the 'Hummels' label inside. Whoever this 'Hummel' was he had made all of his uncle's female outfits for him.

Blaine, now extremely curious about this chain of clothing stores, decided he needed to speak to his new lawyer about what exactly he owned and whereabouts they were in New York itself. He went downstairs and found the phone number of Mr Levenstein to get in contact with him. Once he had gotten through to the secretary and explained to her what he wanted he was put on hold waiting for his new lawyer. He hummed along to the music that was playing when suddenly he heard Mr Levenstein calling out over the phone.

"Hello? Mr Anderson? What can I do for you today?" He called out nervously, concern lacing his voice. He was clearly feeling that his services to Blaine were not quite safe yet. The fact the Blaine didn't know the first thing about law didn't seem to cross this man's mind and that Blaine might need him in order to deal with this new change in his life.

"Hey, um, I was just wondering if I could get the address of one of these clothing stores that my uncle owned. I'm just curious about the business is all."

"Oh, well, um, yes of course. I can do that. Just wait for a moment whilst I find the main store's address." Blaine heard rustling in the background of a whole load of papers and he smiled. It sounded like his lawyer would never change.

"Ah, here it is. Have you got a pen handy?" Blaine confirmed that he did indeed have a pen at hand and took down the address as he was given it, thanking Mr Levenstein after and making his goodbyes.

He looked down at the address. "Well, no time like the present." He said to himself, placing the address in his pocket and getting his coat.

* * *

Getting out of the cab Blaine glanced up at the three story building with baited breath. It looked amazing from the outside. Just the right amount of the old meets the new with its historical brickwork alongside the full length modern windows and the clothes dummies sporting what looked like incredibly fashionable merchandise. This was it. 'Hummels' clothes shop and the head store no less. Taking a deep breath in he pushed the door open and entered the minimalist, very vogue shop with small amounts of clothing on the racks but probably at very high prices. There was one shop assistant at the counter, her raven coloured hair scraped back into a high pony and looking at him questioningly as though they didn't get many people like him inside the shop. Well, they probably didn't.

Blaine was a big believer in not beating around the bush and so went directly to the sales lady, who arched her brow expectantly at him as she carried on flicking through the magazine in front of her. "Can I help you?" She inquired pointedly, looking him up and down, a slight look of disgust on her face.

"Um yes, Is the manager around at all, I'd like to speak to them if that's not too much trouble?" Blaine politely smiled at the girl who sighed as though it were so much hassle to move from the spot she was standing in. Sashaying in what looked like very tall heels coupled with a very tight fitting dress that left nothing to the imagination, she pushed open the staff door and went through. Blaine glanced around as he waited for whoever it was that ran this place. The clothing looked expertly handmade quality items and now that Blaine was a millionaire maybe, just maybe, he might look into buying a few items from this store. After all he did own it. He tapped his fingers on the counter to the tune he had heard earlier that day, humming along under his breath with his back to the staff door when he was interrupted out of his reverie.

"You wanted to see me?" A melodic voice rang out and Blaine turned, his jaw almost hitting the floor as a pair of ocean coloured eyes looked back into his own...


	11. The First Meeting

**Chapter Ten**

"Holy- You're him!" Blaine exclaimed blurting the words out before he meant to, pointing at the man he had seen in his dreams almost every night since he was a child. He knew this face better than he knew his own sometimes. It was the man who had been at the theatre last night, the one he had so desperately wanted to meet. Now he was standing right in front of him, only about a foot away.

"Um, excuse me?" The young man asked Blaine, looking extremely puzzled and dare Blaine say it, a tad scared. "Have we met before? I don't recall it..."

Blaine shook his head, a smile stretching on his face. "No, we haven't met before. At least not in this life." He chuckled, scratching his head and feeling a little like a fool. This was not how he planned his first encounter with the man of his dreams, literally and metaphorically speaking.

"So you're a fan?" The handsome man asked, his ocean eyes twinkling in mirth at Blaine's bumbling behaviour.

Blaine shook his head then realised what he was doing. "No, I mean, yes. That is I like your work, you made all these right?" He gestured to the clothing on the racks and a small giggle escaped the other man's mouth. It was amazing and Blaine was completely in love with it already. It was so musical and soft he could listen to it all day.

"I designed them all but I had help making them." He told Blaine modestly, a small smile playing on his lips that drew Blaine's eyes to them hungrily. He had never kissed a man as beautiful as the one standing in front of him before and wondered what it would be like. Soft he hoped, making his tummy feel warm and his heart ache. He put out his hand for Blaine to shake and Blaine took it without hesitation. They were so soft and smooth, perfect hands on the perfect man. "Kurt Hummel."

"Blaine Anderson." Kurt cocked his head to one side, looking pensive till suddenly a light bulb dawned above it. Blaine could almost hear the cogs whirring in his brain as he tried to work out where he may have heard Blaine's name before.

"You're Johnny's nephew. He gave everything to you didn't he? I'm sorry he's gone, Johnny was one in a million." Kurt's eyes watered as he remembered Blaine's uncle. Blaine wished he had some memories that he could have looked back on, he hated that he couldn't feel anything for this man who had given him so much.

"Um yeah, no kidding right? I um, actually wanted to talk to you about er, well, um Johnny's rather unusual wardrobe." Kurt laughed out loud then, a twinkle in his eye.

"You like it. I made them all for him. He always looked fabulous in them if I do say so myself." He added and Blaine smiled broadly at Kurt's passion and enthusiasm. It was infectious. "I take it you wanted to ask me if I'll take them back to sell or something along those lines."

Blaine chewed his lip hoping he wasn't offending Kurt. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Ever. He wanted this man to love him back and spend the rest of their lives together. Blaine's head was spinning so much that he completely zoned out, only when Kurt poked him on the arm did he wake from his stupor. Shaking his head out of the clouds of his daydream of himself and Kurt's wedding day Blaine bumbled out a response. "Well it seems a waste to give them to a charity shop. They're so beautifully made."

"I'll take them; your uncle had good taste." The raven haired girl added, winking and smiling now that she knew who he was. Blaine shrugged as if to say if that's what the maker wants then it was all right by him.

"Oh what a good idea Tan. You would look amazing in them, especially the dark sapphire one that's off the shoulders. I'd have to adjust them for your figure but that wouldn't take too much time." Kurt looked at 'Tan', tapping his finger to his lips and Blaine watched on bemused. He had no idea what was going on anymore. "I'll need to come back with you to get all the dresses. Let me just get some garment bags and I'll be back in a sec."

Blaine's jaw stood agape as he watched the retreating figure of Kurt Hummel, designer extraordinaire. Kurt was coming back to his home with him? They were going to be alone, in his house. In his bedroom. It was a daunting prospect. "You might wanna close that mouth of yours curls, you don't wanna catch flies with it. Oh and by the way Kurt gets a lot of offers from guys so you might want to up your game before giving it a go there hobbit." The raven haired girl smirked at him in an amused way and he sighed deeply. She was probably right. Blaine looked a mess and Kurt? He looked perfect. His hair was perfect, his clothes were perfect, and his skin was perfect. Everything about him was perfect.

Blaine was going to have to do a lot of work to get his dream guy. The girl named Tan was right...


	12. Thank God for Johnny's Wardrobe!

**Chapter Eleven**

Blaine was sitting on the edge of his bed tentatively as he watched Kurt go through the dresses in his uncles wardrobe one by one, fingering them with such reverence that Blaine felt like he might be intruding even though it was his own house. "Johnny always did like the finer things in life." Kurt smiled wanly at Blaine who beamed back. "You never knew him did you?"

Blaine shook his head sadly. He wished he had. He seemed like he touched a lot of people's lives. He was certainly a savvy man if nothing else. "You know he helped make me. I was a kid in design college when we first met and he thought my designs were outstanding. He paid for my designs to be made, then when I managed to start selling them he bought me a shop, then more and so on. He was quite possibly the most amazing person I have ever met. I loved him." A lone tear streaked down Kurt's face and Blaine could feel a lump rise in his own throat. To give someone that much because you believed in them, his uncle was definitely a special person. He regretted that he never knew him. Before he could stop himself Blaine was down on the floor with Kurt, wiping his tear away with his thumb, blushing as he realised how intimate a gesture that was.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." He whispered out, his heart hammering like a jack rabbit.

"You didn't." Kurt replied lowly, looking down at the dresses in his hands. "I should probably go. I've wasted enough of your time on this." He patted the dresses and started to place them into garment bags and Blaine looked on horrified. He didn't want his time with Kurt to end this way.

"No you haven't wasted my time at all. I'm really glad I met you." He hastily told the other man, his hand wrapping around Kurt's arm unconsciously and Kurt looked into his eyes in surprise. Blaine was quite a tactile person and he forgot that some people weren't used to touching all the time. "I'm sorry, it's a bad habit of mine." Blaine took his hand away ashamed of what he had done and wishing that Kurt would want to see him again.

"No it's ok, I'm just not used to people who I don't know all that well touching me. I kind of set a no touching policy when dating for quite some time, but then we're not dating are we?" His lips curled upwards into a small cupids bow and Blaine sighed in relief, grinning largely.

"I suppose not." Blaine commented wryly and Kurt patted his chest in jest, smoothing out the collar of Blaine's slightly wrinkled shirt as he did so and looking at Blaine curiously as he did so.

"You know I think I could make some designs that would look good on you. That is if you'd like. Call me and we can arrange something." Kurt rifled around in his coat pocket and produced a business card, blushing slightly as he handed it to Blaine. "I um, I'll get going then."

"Thanks. I'll call you." Blaine told him as he led Kurt to the front door. He would most definitely be calling him there was no doubt in his mind of that. He was already falling hard...


	13. Eleusis - The First Conversation

**Chapter Twelve**

 **Eleusis, Greece 491BC**

Alphaeus peered around the doorway into the corridor of his house from the courtyard. He had been steered towards the corridor by his father after walking in on the scene of his father talking to a stranger alongside the most beautiful boy Alphaeus had ever seen. His eyes were not truly blue, but neither were they green. They were both and it had taken his breath away. Even at six years of age Alphaeus knew true beauty when he saw it.

He strained his neck to try and catch snippets of the conversation that carried from the rooms further within the stone house but he couldn't quite catch anything. Sighing he eventually gave up, going to sit on the stone bench underneath the giant fig tree that grew in the middle of the stone steps. Small statues of the Olympian Gods stood to the sides of the courtyard, making Alphaeus seem as though he were under constant scrutiny whenever he was out there doing whatever he was doing, be it reading, playing or just sitting in solitude.

He wished his brother were there but recently his elder brother Hylas, who was more than ten years his senior, had been courting a girl from the poleis itself and consequentially been rarely seen in, or around, the groves or the house. Alphaeus found that he was lonely most of the time. He didn't make friends easily with the other youths and with his brother gone there was no one else around. He had once had a sister only three years his senior but she had died of an illness less than two years ago. So he spent most of his time these days alone when he was not at his lessons, running through the olive groves, hiding from his father and speaking to the people who worked for them. More and more he wished that Hylas didn't spend so much time away. He hated being alone.

"Alphaeus, come here." His head snapped to attention as his father's deep, booming voice called out to him from across the courtyard and he raced across not wanting to anger his father in any way. The beautiful boy stood beside his father, looking around with fear in his eyes. He was slightly taller than Alphaeus, but then everyone was and he had a paler complexion with light brown hair falling straight down the sides of his face. It was nothing like the wild, dark curls of Alphaeus himself. "This is Pinder, he will be staying with us from now on. Treat him like a brother. Do you understand?"

He looked up into the grizzled, stern face of his father and nodded mutely. "Yes father," came his tiny reply. He had seen his father beat their servants before and he did not want the same thing to happen to him. His father had a very short temper and Alphaeus kept out of his way as much as was humanly possible.

"Good, now off with you both, I am a very busy man." With that Alphaeus grabbed Pinder's slight hand tightly and raced him out towards the groves and freedom.

As they sat on a low branch of an olive tree away from where the slaves were working, Alphaeus suddenly became shy. The boy beside him seemed so mature and confident and he did not know how to approach this boy at all. So they sat in silence for quite some time.

"You are very quiet, aren't you?" Pinder suddenly exclaimed, his eyebrow raised to Alphaeus as if he had stated something so terribly obvious for all to see. Which, Alphaeus supposed, he was. He was so used to being alone these days that he had learned the true art of silence.

"I guess..." Alphaeus had so many questions that he wanted to ask but felt silly asking them for some reason. He had never felt shy in front of anyone before and it was disconcerting to him in various different ways. "So, um... how long are you staying with us?"

"Forever I assume." Was Pinder's smooth reply and Alphaeus blushed at the thought of spending forever in Pinder's company. "My father is going away and my mother died recently so he can't look after me. Or he doesn't want to try. He's your fathers third cousin which makes us very distantly related I suppose."

"Oh. Do you not have siblings?"

"No." Alphaeus chewed his bottom lip in thought. He couldn't imagine not having Hylas in his live and suddenly pitied this boy beside him for not knowing what it was like to have a brother or sister. "My mother was too sickly. It was a miracle she had me and that I even survived." The boy shrugged, pretending that it didn't matter but it clearly did. He was obviously close to his mother. Or had been.

"I'm sorry. Well, you can be my brother. We'll have so much fun together. I promise." Alphaeus smiled at the boy, sliding his hand into Pinder's own and squeezing it tightly. Pinder's smile made Alphaeus' heart flutter slightly in his chest, causing him to smile wider as they sat in companionable silence, their legs swinging from the tree branch they were sitting upon.


	14. A Surprise Visit

**Chapter Thirteen**

Blaine woke with a start, the dream of the small Greek boy still firmly in his memory. His mind quickly wondered over to Kurt Hummel. The man of his dreams that he had met yesterday. He thought of his soft chestnut brown hair that waved just so as it was styled to perfection and the small dimple on his chin. He thought of when Kurt smiled those rose pink lips of his into the cutest bow. He sighed as he dreamed of touching the soft porcelain skin of Kurt's cheeks, with only the barest hint of blush.

"Come on Blaine you have things you need to do. Get out of bed and stop daydreaming." Sitting himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed Blaine managed to trudge into the bathroom, his mind constantly wondering back to Kurt's face and their meeting yesterday. If he wasn't mistaken Kurt had liked him. He had blushed when they had been alone together. It wasn't just him that felt this connection. It was like a tingling sensation, an itch, but a good one, that wouldn't go away. Oh how he wished he had been brave enough to have asked Kurt to stay. But he hadn't, his crippling shyness when it came to men he liked had been his own worst enemy.

As he got out of the shower and back to his room to change Blaine spied the business card on his bedside table sitting there as though it was willing him to call Kurt. Yearning for him to do so. He wrestled with his innermost thoughts as he changed. Should he call Kurt? Was it too soon? Could he work up the nerve? With a sigh he remembered that he should really be sorting out the rest of the shop downstairs in order to finally open it and get his website online too.

Mumbling to himself he tore his eyes away from the card that seemed to be boring a hole through his bedside table and downstairs. He needed to get some work done. He hadn't done any yesterday at all.

* * *

Blaine, who had piles of books around him on the floor as he cleaned and wiped the surfaces of the shelves, jumped when he heard a firm knock on the front door of the shop itself. He had put notices up to say it was closed for renovations. Who would be knocking anyway? A postman? It was quite late for the postman to make a delivery. Maybe his uncle had ordered something through the mail before he died and it was only just being delivered.

Curiosity getting the better of Blaine, he carefully extricated himself from the surrounding piles of books strewn everywhere till he got to the front door to peer through the glass window. What he saw on the other side shocked him, but made his heart race a mile a minute. There, standing outside and smiling softly whilst waving at him, was Kurt. Gulping down his nerves, Blaine fumbled with the lock on the door.

"Damn it!" He cursed under his breath as he jangled with the lock until it came loose and he was able to open the door. "Hey." He tried to greet Kurt with nonchalance but it didn't work. Kurt giggled lowly behind his hand, the smile spreading to the whole of his face. His eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Hi. Your uncle always had problems with that too. Maybe you should think of changing the locks?" Kurt told him, slipping into the shop and looking around, noticing the messy state that it was in at that present moment in time. "Did you need some help? I'm good with a cloth and bucket."

Blaine stood agape. He didn't quite know what to say. Here was Kurt, looking stunning, as always, inquiring whether he could help out. Blaine wasn't sure he wanted Kurt to get dirty, but when Kurt held his hand out, his eyebrow raised with a clear look of amusement on it Blaine silently handed him the cloth that was in his hands still. "You're so cute when you get flustered." Kurt added, making his way to where Blaine had previously been with such grace that Blaine felt his cheeks redden at the ungainly way he had travelled through the store to get to the front door. It was almost as if Kurt was gliding. Plus Kurt had just called him cute. Cute! That surely meant that Kurt liked him at least a little bit, right?

"Um, so, um, how are you?" Blaine bumbled lamely, giving himself a mental slap for the rubbish reply to Kurt, who seemed to find the whole thing immensely entertaining.

"I'm good thank you. I just came by to see how you were and to ask if you maybe wanted a tour of the city or something. I remember your uncle told me that you lived in... Alabama? Am I right? And that you'd never left." Feeling like a goldfish out of water, his mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out of it Blaine shook his head and tried to calm himself down. Was Kurt asking him out on a date? No, he was just being friendly, right? That must be it. Dates included dinner or coffee or something along those lines. Not that Blaine had had much experience in that department in the slightest. In fact he had no idea what he was doing. At all.

"Er yeah, Nances Creek, Alabama born and bred. That's me. I've never been anywhere else than there my whole life. Until here now, obviously." Blaine confirmed, his southern drawl suddenly becoming thicker as he thought of home. He didn't miss it but New York was very different. Very different indeed. It was so vast and there were so many people it was mesmerising. He loved it. The excitement, the feel. It felt like he had come home for the first time ever. He owed his uncle everything. "I'd love to be shown around." He responded shyly, a blush dusting his cheeks at the thought of going out and about New York with Kurt. The most amazing man in the universe. Or, at least, Blaine's universe.

"Well great, I'll come round tomorrow around ten then. We can get a coffee in a shop around the corner that I know. It serves the best coffee I've ever tasted. Then I'll show you all the sights." Kurt smiled as he carried on cleaning the bookshelves and, dare Blaine say it, making a better job of it than Blaine had done.

"Great. I can't wait." Blaine grinned broadly, his heart leaping around like a jumping bunny inside his chest. Tomorrow was going to be the best day of his life so far.


	15. Chicago - The Bellhop

**Chapter Fourteen**

 **Chicago, Illinois, USA. 1936AD.**

As Thomas picked up the bags of some fancy pants couple, all sour lemons and stuck up attitudes he did a double take, almost dropping the newest guests luggage. In walked the beautiful boy. Granted the silly, giggling brunette was draped over his arm, but Thomas couldn't see anything else but those wondrous eyes. The man behind those eyes looked bored. Thomas couldn't blame him, who wouldn't with such simpering, uptight people around him. No, this boy needed adventure, he needed romance. He needed to see the world for what it really was and not this life of tea parties, dinners and dances with all manner of nobility and moneyed people. That wasn't the real world.

As Thomas started towards the boy he remembered his place, he was not one of them by far. This Adonis probably wouldn't even take one cursory glance at him, let alone talk to him. Feeling like a fool and feeling his face warm Thomas shuffled the bags towards their rooms.

"Excuse me? Do I know you? You seem awfully familiar." A melodious voice rang out. An angels voice. Turning sharply, Thomas rounded on the beautiful creature before him, his mouth hanging agape as he tried to find the words to reply but something caught in his throat. He looked at Thomas curiously, puzzled by his reaction, but the glimmer of recognition in his eyes gave Thomas a hope he had dared not dream.

"Don't be silly Charles he's the staff. How could you possibly know him." The bony brunette laughed heartily as she gazed up at the boy. Charles. That was his name. He was divine. Perfection itself. "Take this up too would you? We have a dinner we need to get to my darling." Tightening her grip on Charles, the petite brunette twisted him away from Thomas. Feelings of anger burst forth inside of him and Thomas had to close his eyes and breathe in deeply to distract himself from doing anything he knew he would regret later. Thomas had gotten his rage from his father. It wasn't fair how she could lean all over Charles when Thomas couldn't even touch him. She hadn't even allowed him to talk to Charles, answer his question. Thomas watched, angered, as Charles' retreating figure walked away from him and there was nothing he could do about it. He cast his eyes down towards the ground disheartened, his chest squeezing tightly like a vice slowly constricting around his heart.

"Thomas get those bags upstairs now, I don't pay you to stand around doing nothing. If you want to keep this job you better God damn do something to earn it." The manager shouted across the lobby to him. Scowling, Thomas began to lug their bags upstairs. No one got it. No one at all. He was more than this. One day he would prove it to them all. He would become worthy of this beautiful boy if it was the last thing he did.


	16. The First Date

**Chapter Fifteen**

Blaine waited with excitement in his living room, not able to concentrate on anything at that precise moment. Not even reading his uncles books. He had devoured the Garth Nix trilogy having moved on to Memoirs of a Geisha for something different to read. He loved fantasy but thought a break from it would do him good. Unfortunately he couldn't concentrate on anything other than the fact that in less than five minutes time Kurt was supposed to be taking him out for the day on a tour of New York. Kurt and his gorgeous ocean eyes. Just like in his dream he was determined to get Kurt to notice him, to see him as a possible prospect, a viable life partner.

I mean he had a lot of good qualities, right? He was cute, although Blaine had always wished he were taller, but his impish smile and his golden eyes always turned heads wherever he had gone. But then he had lived in Alabama. Blaine wasn't sure what sort of people lived here in New York. Probably beautiful people, people a lot more handsome than he was. His curls were a mess on his head, his mother had always tried, but failed miserably, to get him to cut it into any semblance of a style. But then maybe the majority of the gay population of New York were pretty but had no personality. Blaine could claim to have personality in the bucket load. He was warm and kind, witty and smart in many ways. That's probably why he had never fitted in in Alabama. Whilst the rest of the people his age had gone out to shindigs in their cowboy hats and boots to make out and get drunk he had stayed at home reading or watching TV shows. He had been branded as weird well before he had come out as gay. That just made him a complete outcast, even to the geeks and nerds. He had been a loner.

For someone who wished he could have been a social butterfly it had been hard but he had accepted that fate had made him ironically a more shy and awkward a person than he probably ought to have been. It was just who he was and he couldn't do anything about it. If people didn't like it then tough. And so he had gone it alone. Until now. Now he had the opportunity to really be with someone. To make friends and have a real life like everyone else had. There was no way he was going to let that kind of opportunity slip by.

When he heard the knock on the door Blaine bounced out of his seat like a small child, running to the front door and breathlessly opening it, the biggest smile on his face that could be seen. "Hey, let me just grab my wallet and jacket and I'll be with you." He rapidly grabbed the first coat he saw and shoved his wallet deep into his jeans pocket, shutting the door loudly behind him, excited fervour showing plainly on his face.

"Ok, so...coffee?" Kurt asked cocking his head to the side expectantly in what Blaine realised was a habit of his that Blaine found simply adorable.

"Coffee." He stated, nodding enthusiastically as he fell into step beside the taller boy on their way to their first coffee with one another, and hopefully Blaine thought, not their last.

* * *

Blaine wriggled in his seat as an uncomfortable silence descended over the two of them, not quite knowing what to say now that they were sitting down with the piping hot coffee in front of them. So Blaine concentrated on his coffee. It smelled luxurious. Blaine loved coffee but the sludge he had drank in Alabama was nothing compared to this. Taking his first sip it felt like an explosion of flavour in his mouth and he sighed contentedly. "Do you like it? It's the best coffee I've found here in New York." Kurt asked looking hopeful yet tentative, breaking the silence.

"I love it!" Blaine grinned impishly taking another gulp. It was like drinking heaven itself.

Kurt visibly relaxed. "Good." His shoulders sank slightly and it put Blaine at ease too. He didn't know a lot about Kurt but this was his opportunity to get to know him.

"So... have you always loved fashion?" He asked knowing this was probably the best way to get Kurt talking first of all. He knew he was in the fashion business so he must like fashion, right? Well, that was Blaine's logic anyhow.

Kurt's eyes widened and his eyes sparkled as he sat up straighter, passion oozing from every pore of his body. "Oh my gosh, I love fashion. I've always loved it. The different colours and combinations and finding out what looks good together. It's amazing. I love watching what people wear; it's quite revealing you know."

"Oh, what do my clothes say about me?" Blaine asked shyly, his eyebrows arching up in anticipation of what Kurt would reveal. He blushed lightly as Kurt's gaze stated to roam over him.

Kurt tapped his finger to his lips as though thinking very deeply but really already knowing the answer. "You love the classics. I would put my money on that meaning that you're a polite person with really good manners, kind and helpful. You know what you like, you're confident with who you are on the inside but you're not excessively outgoing. Am I right so far?"

"Yeah! That's amazing. I've never looked at clothing in that way before. That's...wow. You're amazing." Blaine gushed as Kurt blushed furiously at his compliments but looked proud of the fact that he was right.

"Well I have been doing this for a while now." Kurt told him humbly, wriggling in his seat in sheer delight at the positive attention. "I really think you should come into the shop. I have some really great ideas for outfits for you. If you want to that is..." Kurt stopped himself, looking unsure for the first time Blaine had known him. Not wanting to disappoint the boy in any way Blaine replied in the affirmative. He wanted to get Kurt to make him some new clothes anyway; it was an excuse to spend time with him but also to become this new person. His New York self.

"Really? You will? Thank you so much. I have some outstanding outfits that I think would make you turn heads if you wore them. Literally. Not that you don't already of course." Kurt chattered enthusiastically and it was Blaine's turn to flush on more. He hadn't noticed anyone's heads turn to look at him at all since arriving in New York but then he was quite besotted with Kurt that he may not have noticed. He didn't think he would notice the end of the world occurring if he were standing beside Kurt Hummel. "I really think you would look good in maroon. Maybe mustard too." Kurt mused and Blaine sat listening to Kurt reeling off his ideas for Blaine's new outfits, his mouth curling up as he gazed lovingly at the chestnut haired boy he was seated beside. He could sit there forever listening to Kurt's melodic voice. It didn't even matter what he talked about. He simply loved sitting beside this boy...

* * *

Blaine stood on the top of the Empire State building looking out at the world below it. He had never been this high off the ground. Well, apart from in the plane that bought him here. The highest he had ever been was the water tower on the outskirts of town. But that was nothing compared to this. People were tiny specks below, a little like ants as they ferried around rapidly from one place to another. It was one of the most bizarre experiences he had had so far. It showed him how tiny they were in comparison with the world, the Milky Way, the universe itself. Everything seemed so inconsequential when looking at it from above like this.

"The view's out of this world right?" Kurt asked beside him, holding on to one of the binoculars as he looked through it. Blaine wasn't so sure. I mean it was breath-taking in that it showed how small everyone really was in the whole scheme of things but he preferred a sunset on a beach in Alabama any day. Kurt turned, noticing Blaine's silence. "You don't like it? Are you not fond of heights or something? You should have said."

"It's not that. I don't know, it's weird seeing how small everyone is from up here." Blaine mused.

"So it's more thought provoking for you." Kurt quizzed him, looking interested in Blaine's opinion. Blaine nodded, humming in agreement. Blaine looked up at the clear blue sky that was beginning to turn orange as the sun drew lower in the sky and wondered, if there was a God, how insignificant they must all seem to him. Or her. "Do you want to go? I have one last place to take you that you have to see. It's better at night though so let's go get something to eat first."

Blaine beamed at the boy he had spent the day with, and agreed wholeheartedly. Dinner sounded great. He hadn't had this much fun in a long time, visiting museums, the Statue of Liberty and now the Empire State building but he had to admit he was beginning to get a little peckish. His tummy rumbled in the affirmative. "Sorry." He apologised, feeling embarrassed by the loud sound that had come out of his stomach. Kurt just laughed out loud.

"It's ok, I'm starving too. Let's go. I know a great Italian place. You like Italian?"

"I love Italian."

"Great let's go." Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand and pulled him over to the elevators. Blaine surprised and yet in pure bliss at this boy holding his hand for the very first time. Blaine had been right. It was so soft and yet strong. He slid his fingers through Kurt's and they stood side by side not saying a word about the fact that they were now holding hands in an intimate way. It felt so right to Blaine though, like their hands were a perfect fit. Two jigsaw pieces put together perfectly. He could feel the butterflies floating around in his tummy as his heart started aching inside his chest. The more time he spent with Kurt the more he fell for him. Suddenly the feeling that he was beginning to remember who Kurt really, truly was from all the dreams he had ever dreamt of all the different life times, began to surface and the nerves simply floated away.

This was right. It was fate. Destiny, kismet. Whatever you wanted to call it. Whatever it was, it was meant to be and that meant that Blaine had nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. Because they were meant for one another since the beginning of time.


	17. Brooklyn Bridge

**Chapter Sixteen**

Kurt had saved the best place for last. As Blaine looked over at Manhattan from the Brooklyn bridge he was reminded just why he had been so excited at the prospect of coming here. New York was a magical place to him, full of adventure and possibilities. It was the place where all his dreams would come true. Literally.

That was because the person of his dreams was standing right beside him as it always had been and always would be forever more. For all eternity. "I really like it here." Blaine told Kurt. "Thank you. I've had the most fun I think I've ever had in my entire life today."

"I've had a lot of fun too. When you live here for a while you forget all these places exist, you fall into a routine and forget where you are sometimes. New York. You know when I was a kid I dreamed of coming here. Somehow I had the feeling that I would find what I was looking for." Kurt revealed and Blaine sucked in a breath. Dare he tell Kurt about his dreams? Did Kurt have these same visions of past lives as he did?

"Have you found what you were looking for?" Blaine hesitantly asked, his chest constricting, like a snake was coiled round it squeezing tightly, forcing him to hold his breath in anticipation.

Kurt pensively gazed over the river at the Manhattan skyline. "I don't know yet. Maybe." His eyes darted to Blaine and he turned, leaning closer to him. Blaine stood frozen not knowing what to do. Was he going to be kissed by the one man that he loved in all this world? He closed his eyes as he felt Kurt's breaths on his lips, cocking his head to the side and gasped quietly as Kurt's soft lips brushed against his own, his long arms snaking around Blaine's waist to pull him further in.

It was the single most sensual moment in Blaine's life and he never wanted it to end.

But end it did, leaving them both slightly breathless. "There's something about you Blaine Anderson. I'm not sure what it is, I can't put my finger on it but... I don't know. It's like I just know you're the one." Kurt pulled out of the embrace they were now sharing, looking horrified by what he had just said. "I.. God I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"No, I feel the same way. Like this was always meant to be." Blaine cupped Kurt's cheek, stroking his thumb against Kurt's cheekbone. "I want to get to know you. I want to know everything about you."

"Me too." Kurt's lips curled up and Blaine knew that this was the start of his time. His story. His chance of a life with this perfect man. His soul mate.


End file.
